Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Holly was too hungry to care what he’d brought, really, but she was still glad it wasn’t anything fried or greasy.
The apples were just right—crisp, not mealy—and Colby Jack wasn’t her presonal favorite but the instant she saw it, craving hit her hard.
The bagels weren’t toasted, but that was okay. Even the Gatorade tasted like manna.
For once, she could eat. Maybe she just had to get hungry enough.
She realized she was stuffing her face and tried to slow down, tearing off a hunk of cheese and nibbling at it. “Do you... I mean, are you hungry?”
They were heading through suburbs now, each mile taking Holly farther away from her life.
Minimalls, residential areas, Gas-Food-Lodging signs.
The car ran smoothly; it was always weird to be driven around when you usually took the bus or the subway.
Sort of magical, the pavement slipping away effortlessly underneath resting feet.
Reese shook his head, frowning slightly at the freeway.
“I’m okay.” Thin midafternoon sunshine struggled through rainclouds, not very successfully.
Speckles of drizzle hit the windshield, smearing when he flicked the wipers on.
Seen from this angle, his profile was a little ugly—nose too long, his mouth too tight, and he really should have shaved.
Right now all he needed was a glower and a cigarette to look like a villain.
“I tried to get light stuff, easy to digest. Good for you.”
So you work for the Army, and you’re a health nut.
Okay. “Are you vegetarian?” Autumn rains coming in, visible from a long way off once got outside the city’s tall buildings.
That’s why she liked this part of the country, nothing to sneak up on you.
Not like Boston, where divorce—and other things—could show up out of the blue.
“What? No.” He sounded baffled, but that frowning expression didn’t change. “Why?”
“I just wondered.” Now she could remember him getting breakfast at the diner, and bacon. Stupid question, Holly. Pick another one. “Why are we going south?”
“Warmer. Besides, easier to hide once we’re over the border.”
“Over the...” She cracked another bottle of Gatorade, even if she was going to have to pee in ten miles. Her throat felt as though she’d swallowed a belt sander, and the headache simply would not quit. Her back didn’t hurt, though. At least, not much. “Why?”
His frown didn’t intensify, but it didn’t fade, either. “Safer. Easier to hide.”
“Is that your plan?” Because I’m hoping like hell you do have a plan.
Now he glanced at her, a shadow of amusement crossing his face before vanishing. “Pretty much.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t tell whether to be reassured or not. The rain intensified; he turned the wipers on low. Brake lights glared against the wet road. “Some plan.”
“Do you have a better one?”
“I’m not a... what exactly are you? Security consultant. Uh-huh.” It probably wasn’t a good idea to sound so sarcastic, but her bravery was going up with her blood sugar. “You work for the Army, or what?”
“For the government. A division you’ve never heard of, let’s say. I started out in the Army. There was an accident.”
At least he was talking. Holly watched his hands on the wheel. “What kind of accident?”
“IED. Roadside bomb. I’d never walk again, they said. Then they told me about the program.”
Funny, he seems to be walking just fine. “What program?”
“Experimental. It would get me back on my feet, and there were other benefits.” Reese didn’t shrug, but his tone said he might have wanted to. “In return, I’d work intelligence. I suppose that’s what you’d call it.”
No way. “You’re a spy?”
“I’m an agent. I solve problems, I troubleshoot, I gather intel, I liquidate—”
Wait a second. “Liquidate?”
He was silent.
Everything she’d eaten settled in a cold lump, her stomach suddenly informing her that enough was enough, thank you. The nausea, an old familiar friend, filled Holly’s throat. She capped the Gatorade, very carefully. “So am I a problem? Something to... troubleshoot? To liquidate?”
“No.”
She waited, but that was it. He turned the dial for the heater, touched the defroster. Left it alone.
“So what am I, then?” she persisted. “Collateral? As in damage? That’s what she said.”
“Who?” Sharp interest now, and he was stealing little glances at her without turning his head.
I can’t even begin to explain. “I don’t know. I wasn’t... I couldn’t think. It was too bright.” Return the subject. Paperwork for a cremation. See if he bites.
Holly shuddered. The pressure in her stomach drained away.
“It’s the drugs.” Casually, as if it didn’t matter. Maybe this sort of stuff happened to him all the time. “If you remember more, tell me. It might help.”
“Help what?” How is there any helping this?
“I don’t know if they’ve liquidated the program itself or just me. Either way, they’re going to look for me, and for you, too. Those target files mean they have deep pockets and access to all the systems any government uses to keep track of people. Probably running grids and cores right now—”
Grids? Cores? “Can you please slow down and use English?”
Reese took a deep breath, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “It means that if we stay in the country, sooner or later they’re going to catch us. I want you safe, so we’re going over the border.”
Nice to know you’re concerned. “Aren’t I safer if you just drop me off? They’ll question me and figure out I don’t know anything, then—”
“That’s not the way they see it.”
“How do they see it?” And who is they, really? Government? This is just... She couldn’t find a word that fit.
“You’re a liability, one they’re willing to suffocate in her own bed. They don’t know what I’ve told you. They don’t know what I might do.”
“Since they tried to…” No euphemism would work here. “To kill you.”
“Yeah.”
Holly waited for him to add more. He didn’t. So she took another tack. “What about going to the police? The media? I mean, if you go public they have to leave you alone—”
“God, you’re naive.” Now he was smiling, which pretty much transformed his profile from near-ugly to almost-handsome. “It’s pretty adorable.”
Holly’s jaw dropped. She stared at him, clutching the Gatorade bottle. Liquid sloshed. “I don’t think I—”
“You’re what’s referred to as emotional noise.
” The smile vanished. “Keeps an agent from thinking clearly, makes things messy. Maybe that’s why they wanted to retire me, I don’t know.
I’ll figure out more when I can, but right now all I’m concerned about is getting us over the state line and finding someplace to sleep.
Collecting you was a high-risk maneuver, running with a civilian in tow is a tall order even for a program agent.
I’ll tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it. Clear?”
Holly dropped her gaze, stared at the bag in her lap. Emotional noise. What did that even mean? “You could have just left me there.” I wouldn’t have known the difference. “Why didn’t you?” Because all that stuff about Ernie wasn’t a reason. It wasn’t even an explanation.
Maybe that was one of the questions she wasn’t supposed to ask. Reese’s knuckles were white. He was squeezing the wheel like it had personally offended him.
The silence stretched out, thinner and thinner, a balloon filling with dangerous gas. She busied herself with tidying up the ravaged remains of groceries, every rustle of the bag now incredibly loud. The song of tires against blacktop was familiar, but this time it failed to soothe her.
“Forget it,” she finally said to her feet, arranging the bag carefully between the pair of blue trainers he’d produced in her size.
New shoes, their bottoms barely touched with grime.
“I’m just glad to be alive, I guess. This is pretty weird.
” And that’s the understatement of the year.
What would Dad think about this? It hurt to think of her father, an old familiar pain.
Reese said nothing. Holly settled back in the seat and stared out the window as miles rolled away.